


Heavy on the Nog

by copperpotsnpans



Series: Holiday Fics [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blizzards & Snowstorms, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Eggnog, Holidays, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2019-09-01 16:10:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16768477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/copperpotsnpans/pseuds/copperpotsnpans
Summary: Jordan slowly sat down in the extra chair beside Derek, blowing out a breath of air through pursed lips. “So let’s say hypothetically that someone thought that no one else would be drinking the eggnog so they maybe sort of spiked it.”Or the holiday themed AU where Stiles gets unintentionally drunk on eggnog at the station's Christmas party during a snowstorm.





	Heavy on the Nog

**Author's Note:**

> Hi again everyone! Here's what I hope to be the first of several winter-holiday themed fics. To be fair about this fic, I didn't tag it as underage because Stiles is technically 18, though he's still in high school. Depending your opinion on the matter, this may be something to take into consideration. 
> 
> Thanks again to everyone who reads these!!! I appreciate every kudo and comment! Happy reading!

Outside the station, snow whirled in a graceful blur, quickly piling up on the roads, creating a rather picturesque scene. Inside the sheriff’s station, however, a very different sort of scene was occurring. The station Christmas party was in full swing, Christmas carols blasting on the dilapidated stereo in the corner.

The officers who staffed the station were in full festive cheer, or as festive as they could be in their workplace. The Sheriff in particular was thrilled to see his son, celebrating and encourage the other deputies to do the same.

Stiles was dancing amongst the guests, trying to get the rest of the station to join him. He was bouncing through the station, a cup of eggnog in one hand and a candy cane in the other. He alternated refilling the eggnog glass and handing out candy canes to the deputies and their families that had chosen to join him for the party.

Deputy Derek Hale sat by his desk, sullen throughout the festivities. He wasn’t thrilled to be at the party, and the Sheriff obviously knew that. He had scheduled Derek to work during the staff party so that he couldn’t make up an excuse to avoid it, unless there was a sudden emergency. And in a town like Beacon Hills, the odds of a major emergency occurring were slim to none. 

So there he sat, deeply displeased with the turn of events. It wasn’t that he was a grinch or anything of the sort. He liked the winter holidays as much as anyone. He loved buying gifts for his sisters and sitting around the tree with his parents. But he despised forced gatherings in the spirit of Christmas cheer. He also despised overplayed Christmas carols. And here he was, with two of his least favorite things in the same location. He loved being a deputy, but it was times like these that made him think about quitting.

Not only was he subject to Jingle Bell Rock, but he was being subjected to Stiles dancing around the station, hips swaying to the beat. Guilt churned in his stomach every time his eyes lingered just a touch too long on the Sheriff’s son. Sure, Stiles was legal; he had turned 18 in April and was set to graduate soon. But it didn’t ease the sleazy feeling that enveloped his very soul as he sat there, eyeing the Sheriff’s only son. Stiles’s pants were surprisingly tight, hugging his ass and highlighting his slim figure. He wore a silly sweater, with a reindeer on it, proclaiming ‘Oh Deer, Christmas is Here’. Derek thought it was ridiculous, though if really pressed to admit it, he thought it was adorable that Stiles, being an adult, still loved puns to the extent he was willing to wear them on his clothes.

The man in question approached Derek, swaying his hips in time to the music. He offered the candy cane to Derek as he got closer. Derek didn’t really like candy canes, the taste of artificial peppermint put him off, but he took it anyway, allowing his lips to twerk up slightly at the gesture. He didn’t want to let Stiles in on his attraction, but he was also exceptionally glad that Stiles was thinking of him.

“Do you have plans for Christmas? I’m sure dad would be happy for you to come over to ours!” Stiles sat down, the holiday cheer evident in his voice. Of course he would be the type to go all out for holidays. He probably dressed up for Halloween and lit sparklers for Independence day. Derek internally groaned, he probably even gave out cards for Valentines day, hoping that nobody would be left out. If the Sheriff knew of his crush on Stiles, he’d probably kill him.

“I’m going to go visit my parents.” he replied. 

Stiles lit up, and then he was off, chattering a mile a minute. “That’s so nice that you still visit your parents. I can’t imagine ever really living far away from dad. Even though I’m applying to colleges, and like, I wanna go somewhere good, but I also want to be close, you know? Like I want to be close enough to visit every couple of weeks but I want somewhere with good programs. And I want to have friends there. Preferably Scott but I’d take Lydia. Lydia might even be for the best, she knows a lot about life.” he rambled, proving Derek’s assumptions correct. With the smallest tidbit, Stiles could carry an entire conversation. “Where did you go to college?” 

Derek was surprised in the break of Stiles’s monologue but answered obligingly. “I went to NYU. Lived in the city.”

“Did you like it? Was it strange being away from your family?” Stiles interrogated.

“It was a fun experience and I’m glad I went. I’m also glad that I get to live near my family now.” Derek volunteered. 

“See! I don’t want to leave my dad alone. If I’m not here, he’ll probably just eat take out all the time and never check his blood pressure.” 

Derek nodded, unwilling to converse too deeply with Stiles, hesitant to expose his feelings to the light. After a few seconds of awkward silence, Stiles continued.

“Well, thanks for chatting. I’m going to go find more eggnog.” And with that, Stiles was up, twirling through the crowd, in search of more eggnog.

Derek shook his head. He’d never seen one person capable of that much enthusiasm all the time. The Sheriff said it was ADHD, but Derek was enamored nonetheless. He made eye contact with the man in question and quickly averted his eyes. The last thing he needed was his boss finding out he was attracted to his son. Derek could almost envision the color purple he was sure the Sheriff’s face would turn.

Some new rendition of Hallelujah blared from the speakers and Derek sighed, at least with Stiles talking to him he could ignore the music. Hopefully the party would end before his shift was over, so he could get some actual paperwork done. 

Speaking of paperwork, Derek shuffled through some reports he needed to finish filling out, picking one at random. Maybe if people thought he was working he’d be able to escape the forced small talk.

He made it a quarter of the way through the report when a cupcake was placed in his line of sight. Looking up, Derek saw Jordan Parrish was the one offering the baked good. Frowning, Derek reached for the sweet. It wasn’t like any sane person would turn down a cupcake.

“I’d offer you something to drink but you already have coffee. And you don’t seem like the eggnog type.” Jordan chuckled, “But then again, no one really likes eggnog.”

  
  


“Except for Stiles.” Derek muttered.

Jordan’s eyes widened in alarm. “Stiles is drinking the eggnog?”

Derek raised his brows, was it really that much of a concern. Sure the stuff was nasty but it wasn’t like it was dangerous. “Yeah, he’s been downing it all night.” Derek confirmed.

Jordan slowly sat down in the extra chair beside Derek, blowing out a breath of air through pursed lips. “So let’s say hypothetically that someone thought that no one else would be drinking the eggnog so they maybe sort of spiked it.”

Derek laughed. “Why would anyone do that?” They were in a police station not a high school dance. 

When Jordan didn’t respond the smile slid from Derek’s face. “Did you spike the eggnog?”

Jordan winced and then slowly nodded. “I thought I was the only one who drank eggnog!” he defended. “How much has he drank?”

“I’ve watched him drink at least three cups.” Both men swung their gazes over to the teen in question, watching him take a couple more swigs of the beverage. “What did you spike it with?”

“Little bit of brandy, a lot of rum.” Jordan answered, hanging his head in shame. Leave it to a deputy to get the Sheriff’s son drunk. He’d be lucky if he didn’t get arrested.

“How the fuck did you manage to get that much liquor into the station?” Derek asked. Jordan wasn’t the most subtle person he’d ever met. Someone must’ve seen him carrying in handles of liquor.

“I put it in my locker, just splashed some in when we were setting things up.” Jordan replied in a hushed tone, trying to avoid anyone noticing their conversation. 

Stiles tripped over a chair, landing in a heap at the foot of a desk. Everyone paused but before anyone approached him he held his cup of eggnog, unspilled in the air. A few people chuckled before returning to their conversations.

“You got the sheriff’s kid fucking drunk.” Derek whispered accusingly at Jordan. “His underage son.”

“He’s eighteen!” Jordan spluttered. “And at least I don’t have a crush on him!”

Derek narrowed his eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Jordan laughed, “Of course you don’t.”

They sat in silence for a moment, watching Stiles get yet another glass of eggnog. “Should we stop him?” Derek asked.

“Yeah I guess I could just announce that I spiked the eggnog. Hide your children! And then I could just cuff myself and sit in a cell for the rest of the night.” 

Derek rolled his eyes. “Alright drama queen. The sheriff probably won’t arrest you. But we can’t just let Stiles keep downing the shit. He’s gonna get plastered.” Looking over, Stiles was staring intently at a greeting card. “Or he already is.”

“Go distract him!” Jordan urged.

“Why me? Why don’t you go distract him?”

“You like him, he obviously likes you! This is your chance to get to know him!”

Derek grumbled, “I’m not taking advantage of him. He’s drunk. And what do you mean he likes me? He doesn’t even know me.”

“I’m not suggesting you sleep with. Just talk to him. And it’s obvious he likes you. Do you really think he studies better while at the station? It’s not a coincidence that he comes in every Saturday morning during your shift and then stays here conveniently until your shift is over.”

Sighing, Derek got to his feet, unfolding his body from the small chair. Jordan clearly didn’t know what the hell he was talking about. But, all the same, he couldn’t let Stiles get trashed at an official police function. With every step closer, he regretted all the choices that had brought him to this. He should’ve gotten better grades. He should’ve supported the capitalist economy and gotten an internship. Hell, he should’ve stayed in New York after graduation. But no, instead here he was. Crushing on his boss’s recently adult son who was drunk off his ass on spiked eggnog. His parents must be so proud.

Stiles looked up from his perch near the eggnog bowl as Derek approached. “Hey Derek! How’s it hanging?”

“Good. How are uh feeling?” Derek asked.

Stiles gave him a weird look but answered. “I’m fine. You know, the same as I was twenty minutes ago when I talked to you. Do you want some eggnog?” he offered his cup.

Derek shook his head. “I’m good. But what about some hot chocolate instead?”

“Nah, I’m really digging this eggnog. Which is funny because I usually don’t like it that much. Whoever made this must have a really good recipe. I should get it before I go home. Hey, have you seen this snow?” Stiles rambled.

Derek looked out the window. The snow was piling up much faster than he expected. When he turned back around, it was to Stiles downing another glass of eggnog. Sighing, Derek plucked the cup from Stiles’s hand. 

“That’s enough of that.” he said, tossing the cup in the recycling bin. 

“What was that for?” Stiles asked, his face pinching up. “I was just drinking eggnog.”

“Yeah but you’ve probably had enough for the night.” Derek gritted out.

“So you get to decide when I’ve had enough eggnog. Alright bossypants.” Stiles pouted.

“Look, Jordan decided to spike the eggnog. You can’t drink anymore!” Derek whispered, leaning in close to Stiles.

Stiles’s eyes widened as he comprehended Derek’s statement. “Are you telling me I’m drunk?”

Derek shrugged, “Or at least pretty tipsy.”

“Shit. Dad’s gonna be pissed.” Stiles whispered.

“Yeah. That’s why we’re not going to tell him. Just act normal.”

“Normal? Have you met me? People have called me a lot of things in my short eighteen years of life, but never normal.”

Derek nodded in acceptance. That was probably true. Stiles was a little eccentric. 

“Just sit still and be quiet. And don’t talk to your dad unless he approaches you. Drink some water.” Derek paused for a second. If Stiles was left on his own to get water, it was hard to tell when he’d actually get it. “On second thought, I’ll bring you some water.”

Stiles nodded and Derek retrieved the water quickly, not wanting to leave him to his own devices for too long. He forced the bottle into Stiles’s hands, watching him gulp the water down.

Derek had the audacity to believe, if even for a moment, that they might make it out of this unscathed and that, perhaps, Jordan could retain his job after all.

And then Stiles slowly lowered the bottle from his plush lips. A hand came down on Derek’s shoulder in a congenial manner.

“How’re you boys liking the party?” the Sheriff asked.

“It’s great!” Derek shook his head at his own enthusiasm. If anything, that would arouse more suspicion from the Sheriff. It wasn’t like he was known for being happy. Or enthusiastic.

“You feeling alright?” the Sheriff asked, focusing on Stiles. 

Stiles’s face had taken on an unnaturally green pallor and trickles of sweat ran down his forehead. He leaned forward slightly, taking shallow breaths through his mouth. And promptly emptied the contents of his stomach on Derek’s freshly shined shoes.

The party guests slowly realized what had happened and began drifting over as Derek stood stock still in shock and horror. 

“Probably a stomach bug.” the Sheriff muttered as he took a mop someone offered and began cleaning the mess up. “Derek, would you care to run Stiles home real quick and then you can head on home yourself. That way you can take care of those shoes.”

“That would be amenable.” Derek replied, thankful that he could change soon and more importantly, that it wasn’t immediately apparent that Stiles was drunk.

The Sheriff helped Stiles into his coat before ushering them out of the warmth of the station and into the frosty cold. 

Derek hurried to the car, with Stiles close behind him. Once seated, Derek fished around for a plastic bag in the back of the car, taking his soiled shoes off and tieing them up inside. He located his spare shoes and put them on, happy to no longer smell rotten eggnog. 

Stiles had buckled himself in the meantime and had dozed off. He softly snored as Derek pulled out of the parking lot with some difficulty as the car had some difficulty on the icy pavement. He drove slowly and carefully, watching for icy areas, to the Stilinski house, grateful that it was only a few streets over. Snow covered the road and drifted in large piles, making for a treacherous journey.

The street lights created an eerie effect as the whirling snow made them all but blinding as they reflected off the individual fractals. Frost covered the windows of passing houses and cars were entrenched in cold white.

Carefully, Derek pulled into the driveway and shut off the car. Stiles was still fast asleep, a trail of drool covering his cheek. And Derek’s window.

He reached over, shaking the younger man awake. Stiles blustered for a second before becoming aware of his surroundings. 

Once out of the car, Derek hurried to the porch and grabbed the spare key out of the mailbox. A little obvious, Derek mused. But then, he couldn’t imagine anyone being brave enough to break in to the Sheriff’s house.

Inside, Stiles kicked off his shoes and coat before collapsing in a heap on the couch. Derek removed his own shoes as to not track snow onto the hardwood floors. They looked original and he would be remiss to ruin them. 

“Do you need anything before I go?” Derek asked, gently pushing at Stiles’s shoulder, making sure he was still awake.

“Bed.” Stiles grunted, burying his face in the couch.

Derek smiled. While this wasn’t how he had planned spending the evening, it was downright adorable how grumpy Stiles was when being deprived of sleep.

“Come on, I’ll help you upstairs.” Derek pushed Stiles into a sitting position.

Stiles let himself be moved but then stopped, glaring at Derek. “I can sleep here.”

“You’ll hurt your neck. You’re too tall for the couch.” Derek reminded him.

“Fine. I’ll go but I won’t be happy about it.” Stiles muttered, shuffling to the stairs. 

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

Derek followed behind him closely, unsure of how intoxicated he might still be. At the top of the stairs, he paused and let Stiles go into his room by himself. While this seemed like every stereotypical porn Derek had ever seen, he had scruples and refused to take advantage of inebriated people.

Stiles reemerged a few minutes later, holding pajamas. He pushed his way into the bathroom and closed the door again, leaving Derek in the dark, with only the moonlight softly illuminating the hall with reflections from the snow outside. 

Derek was contemplating going downstairs and leaving when his phone began buzzing in his pocket.

“This is Derek.” he answered.

“Derek! Are you still at my house by any chance?” the Sheriff asked, warmly.

“Yeah, I’m just getting Stiles settled and then I’ll head home.”

“Look, I appreciate that but the roads are getting real bad. I just got a call from Mrs. Mayweather and she said the roads are near impassable the closer you get to the preserve. And they’re forecasting blizzard conditions soon. I hope it’s not too much trouble, but would you consider staying at my house for the night? I have to stay here in case things get too much worse. You know, man the phones and whatnot. I don’t feel comfortable leaving Stiles by himself while sick.”

“I wouldn’t want to impose-” Derek began before the Sheriff cut him off.

“Nonsense! You’d be doing me a huge favor. Besides, we’ve got the fireplace in case the power goes out. And this way I know Stiles isn’t by himself in this weather. He’d probably try to wander out for candy or something” 

Derek nodded even though the Sheriff couldn’t see him. That did seem like something Stiles would try.

“I’ll stay.” Derek confirmed, though really it wasn’t much of a decision to make. It was safer to stay put in bad snow and he’d get to spend tomorrow morning with Stiles. Not much of a decision at all.

“Thanks Derek, I knew I could count on you.”

They said their goodbyes and Derek pocketed his phone just as a loud crash came from the bathroom.

“Stiles!” Derek called as he knocked on the door. “Are you okay?”

Not getting a response, Derek tried knocking again, this time calling out louder. When Stiles still didn’t respond, Derek tried the doorknob, finding it unlocked. 

“I’m coming in.” he called, opening the door slowly in hopes of giving Stiles time to cover himself if need be.

He swung the door open to find Stiles sitting against the tub, with the shower curtain down around him. 

“What happened?” he asked, trying to right the shower curtain.

“I fell. And then it fell.”

“I can see that.” Derek said, fixing the curtain rod back to the wall where it belonged. “Do you need any help?”

“Nah. I got all the important stuff.” Stiles muttered, pushing himself back up on his feet. “You going home now?”

“No. Your dad called and asked me to stay. The road’s are too bad to drive on and he has to stay at the station overnight. Is that okay with you?” Derek asked.

“That’s fine.”

“How’re you feeling?”

“Not good. My head hurts.” Stiles replied, rubbing his eyes.

“That’s the hangover phase. Have you ever been drunk before?”

“Not really. Do you think dad noticed?” 

“I don’t think so. But he does think you have a stomach bug so be aware of that.” he responded.

“Thanks, Derek. You didn’t have to do this and I really appreciate it.”

Derek scoffed. “It’s not like it’s a hardship to spend time with you Stiles.”

Stiles looked pensive as they descended the stairs. Derek made a beeline to the kitchen, rummaging through cabinets until he found the hot cocoa. He warmed the milk over the stove in silence, though he could hear Stiles making noise in the living room. After pouring it into two mugs, Derek went back into the living room.

A warm fire roared gently from the fireplace, casting a yellow red glow over the entire living room. Heat emanated from the fire, bathing them in warmth. The smell of wood wafted gently through the room.

Stiles was huddled on the couch, curled in a ball with a blanket tucked around him. Derek handed him the mug of cocoa and sat on the other end of the couch, propping his socked feet up on the well worn coffee table.

Derek sipped at the cocoa slowly as Stiles began to speak.

“You know, with you doing all this I’d almost think Jordan was on to something.”

Derek jerked his head around. “What?” 

Jordan certainly wouldn’t have told Stiles that he had a crush on him. And if he did, Derek was going to make sure he got every call from Mrs. O’leary in the foreseeable future. She was a sweet middle aged lady who called the police every time anyone so much as looked at her funny. She was also a fan of conspiracy theories, a product of too many history channel mockumentaries in Derek’s opinion. She was convinced that the Illuminati was coming to Beacon Hills, that the zombie apocalypse was only a sneeze away and, Derek’s personal favorite, that the Sheriff was a communist sent by Russia to take over the west coast. How she came to that conclusion, Derek would never know. No one liked dealing with her, mainly because she was steadfast in her beliefs and would become irate when they’d refuse to arrest their own sheriff. Yeah, Jordan would definitely be dealing with her in the future.

Stiles pursed his lips. “Jordan seems to have this crazy theory that you have a crush on  _ me _ . Like who’d even believe that.”

It struck Derek just how much Stiles depreciated himself. He was always willing to believe that no one would want him. Probably years of bullying, Derek mused. He’d heard stories from the Sheriff about the unbelievable cruelty perpetuated by the children at school. 

In that moment, there was a decision that had to be made. Derek could either fess up and let Stiles know that it wasn’t inconceivable for someone to like him. Or he could keep quiet, play it off as a joke and save his own hide. While it wasn’t his responsibility to build Stiles’s self esteem, he also didn’t want this to be a moment that Stiles looked back on in the future as proof that Derek didn’t want him.

“It’s true.” Derek exhaled, gripping his mug tightly. 

“Are you serious?” Stiles asked, leaning forward to set his mug on the table. “Derek.”

Derek leaned back even further into the couch and avoided eye contact. “Of course I’m serious Stiles. I’ve like you ever since you broke into the station to citizen’s arrest your chemistry teacher. And it probably kicked into a crush when I had to respond to a call regarding scantily clad teens in the preserve. Because then I realized you weren’t just some high schooler, and that you were actually pretty hot. And do you know how fucking adorable it is that you still have ridiculous puns on your clothing? And now I’m going to shut up because this is enough word vomit for a lifetime.” Derek buried his head in his hands until Stiles gently pulled them away.

“That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard. But why didn’t you say anything? I turned eighteen months ago.”

“You being eighteen is something quite different from you being an adult. You’re still in high school and your dad is my boss. I didn’t think it would be appropriate. And it also feels a little skeevy for me, an adult with a career, to be hitting on you, a high school student.”

“Derek, that’s incredibly sweet. Were you ever going to tell me?” Stiles asked.

“Eventually, maybe after you graduated. But I had no guarantees that you would even be interested.” Derek explained. “Even if Jordan felt it appropriate to meddle.”

Stiles paused for a second, gulping down his hot cocoa.

“You know I feel the same way, right?” Stiles asked, putting one hand on Derek’s thigh.

“You don’t have to reciprocate Stiles. I promise that I won’t be mad.”

Stiles scoffed. “Seriously, Derek. You’re one of the kindest people I’ve ever met. I saw when you climbed that tree to get that cat down. And the time you started a manhunt for that escaped gerbil. And you always listen to my asinine chatter. You make me feel valued, of course I like you. And it doesn’t hurt that you fill out that uniform the way you do.” he wiggled his brows, just to make sure his meaning was clear.

Derek chuckled before removing Stiles’s hand.

“Wait. You mean to tell me that you like me and I like you and I can’t even feel you up?” Stiles asked skeptically. 

“Not until I’m sure you’re not drunk. And then you can feel me up to your heart’s desire.”

Stiles huffed and sat back against the couch. “Damn your scruples. What about cuddling? Is that off the table?”

Derek thought for a moment. There wasn’t a clear way that cuddling would be inappropriate. He also didn’t think Stiles was still that under the influence. It had been hours since he’d had a drop of alcohol. 

“I suppose that would be okay.” he surmised. 

“I call little spoon!” Stiles called, arranging Derek’s legs onto the couch and then settling himself in between Derek’s legs.

Derek covered them with the blanket Stiles had been using and settled in, resting his head on top of Stiles’s, breathing in the faint smell of strawberry shampoo. It was nice, feeling the solid warmth of his body resting against him.

Stiles sighed and snuggled in closer. They made idle chatter for some time, with the fire crackling softly in the background. Eventually, Stiles drifted off to sleep and before long, Derek matched his breathing to Stiles’s. He slowly blinked, his vision becoming dimmer before he, too, fell asleep. 

As the snow blanketed the small house, the fire inside kept the two men warm, though that warmth could also be attributed to the new love burgeoning inside. It didn’t matter, for that warmth allowed the love to blossom and become something else altogether in the spirit of the holiday season. 


End file.
